Sunday, August 23, 2009

Tate, 18 months

Just the title of this blog alone makes me both a little sad and a little excited. Sad because my little baby is just not so little anymore. At 18 months, he wants to do everything by himself. He screams if I try to help him up or down the stairs, throws himself onto the floor if I try to feed him, immediatly tears his socks and shoes off after I've put them on. However, pretty much any other time, he wants to be held, wants mommy there, wants to sit on my lap. And sometimes I just love that. I love rubbing my cheek against his, marveling at how smooth and soft and flawless his skin is. I love how he gives kisses almost constantly at times, how he says "love you", how he nuzzles in to my neck, even if it's just for a few moments. And I know, as he gets older, he'll only get more independent. So I'll miss those sweet moments with my little guy. But I'll also love watching him entertain himself more. I'll feel better leaving him with a babysitter and at church. I can't wait to hear him talk, really talk, in his own little sentences.

At 18 months, he is saying a lot more than the 10 or so words at 15 months. He still loves to mimic animal noises, loves books (especially "Barn" and "Pet Show"), likes to sit in his rocking chair and say "rock rock", requests "snacks, crackers, bar, milk, drink", always wants to play with "arrow" (pronounced "R O", which is Rowan), asks to talk to "Susu" or "Dada" or "Grandma" on the phone and probably says the word "Mama" hundreds of times a day (that is not an axaggeration). Other than "mama", his favorite word is certainly "no", but pretty close is "dem", which somehow means yes. He keeps me entertained and is so energetic I can't sit still for a minute.

It's amazing to imagine what he's going to be like as he gets older and amazing to spend all of this time with him while he's little. Happy 18-month birthday, Tater Tot. I love you.

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